92 books like NSFW

This book is dystopian and is really about the downfall of capitalism, but it starts in an office.

Candace Chen has her job and not much else. She goes to work and has little personal life outside of it. She barely even notices when a plague sweeps New York, and everyone leaves, and society crumbles. Her work keeps her busy, and she does it until the money she’s promised shows up in her bank account.

What caught my attention is how well the author communicates the idea that humans become completely adaptable to untenable systems at work, and we keep doing our jobs under nearly any circumstance. Even a plague.

This examination of the conditioning we get to put work first no matter what else is happening is a painful eye-opener. Better boundaries next time, I guess. 

This novel caught my eye for one simple reason—the protagonist attempts to destroy her society with a spreadsheet. Although a fantasy in which the modern world (even office life) is divided between heroes and villains, this novel lands on some brutal truths—like the difference between good and evil is mostly marketing and that some people will do anything for the right job. 

It’s a hilarious book that pokes fun at the most absurd bosses, the things we do for work, and the real harm a toxic workplace or system causes everyone. The supervillain/hero context provides food for thought without slowing the story down or causing work-related cold sweats.

I had to read this when it came out because it felt ripped from the headlines. Sarah Lai has left behind her Hollywood dreams of filmmaking for a quieter, simpler life. But a journalist reaches out and drags her past to the forefront by asking questions about Sarah’s experiences working with a celebrated producer. There have been… complaints. From women. A lot of women.

Sound familiar? This is a wholly fictional take on past events, but it also forces the reader to examine the ways in which we might be complicit in holding up systems, and what we can do to break bad patterns.

Engaging, timely, and I couldn’t put it down. Again, women find their voices and stand up for other women around them. That’s a narrative I can’t miss. 

We all have that one boss that we’re pretty sure is cursing our name and our work. In this book, the boss may just be an evil wizard who has actually cursed four women to hide his misdeeds.

What drew me in was the fairy-tale elements of this novel. Again, it’s set in a modern context but uses fantasy elements to drive home the absurdity of modern work culture and the horrors that women experience at work, no matter how good they may be at their jobs. Especially if they’re good at their jobs.

It’s also a powerful story about fierce and angry women who find common ground and work together to improve their collective situations. Anytime women work together to destroy an evil villain, I’m in. 

While other scholars have focused on how various definitions of womanhood influenced the formation of the United States’ political and legal systems, Mark Kann pays closer attention to how perceptions of manhood shaped the creation of the U.S. during the early republic. In A Republic of Men, Kann contends that the U.S.’s founders sought to establish a republic based on male authority and female subordination. During the early years of the republic, as Kann describes it, political and legal authorities connected white men to productivity and reason while linking all women to inherent weakness and dependency. I found Kann’s book especially helpful for understanding how American political and legal authorities sought to institutionalize rights and privilege for white men only. 

Sometimes reading eighteenth-century writing can be tedious due to the differing norms and expectations of writing. But Archangela Tarabotti’s essays burn the page.

Her anger is incandescent. She became a cloistered nun without a calling and lived her years trying to make a life of letters. Though she had a couple patrons—men—who brought her books and helped publish her works, she was at their mercy and was later nearly silenced by them. She rails against fathers, priests, and powerful nobles who limit women’s choices and voices. I have never forgotten her anger at injustice.

Reading that once upon a time in my birthland, male dominance was not the natural order of things was liberating.

In this historical book that’s based on critical facts, one learns of the true nature of women as Goddess in the Middle East. She held prestigious positions and had a fairly peaceful lifestyle until religion and patriarchy changed all that.

Over the centuries, her stories were deleted out of history and also distorted in an attempt to strip her of her power. An attempt that has caused a hell on earth in that region.

A man I was working with recommended this book to me, when he heard about my novel, while it was in the making. I got hold of this book and already after the first chapter I understood why. Janice Radway investigates how Harlequin novels have such a large audience. In essence it is because romance novels always end well, as opposed to life, that keeps being complicated. It taught me that I’m a very romantic person. This was something I had never regarded as a positive trait so of course I failed to see just how important romance was and is to me. By identifying with millions of women who read these romance novels, I gained a respect that I still feel is lacking in our culture: A respect for our emotions and the big role they play in our sense of satisfaction with life.  

What I loved most about this book was how strongly it made me feel—sad, angry, powerful. I am in awe of Tehlor Kay Mejia’s writing. They crafted a richly developed world and forged nuanced characters like Dani and Carmen, whose romance was perfect and heart-wrenching.

The book has a lot to say, addressing issues like immigration and misogyny with depth and authenticity, making it a feminist, Latinx, and sapphic masterpiece that I can’t help but adore and recommend. 

The only male author on this list, Coleman Dowell’s Southern Gothic tale is included because it contains some of the most nuanced writing of female characters I’ve ever encountered. Too Much Flesh tells the narrative of a well-endowed farmer named Jim, his petite wife Effie, and a young man, Jabez, whose mutual obsession with Jim leads to, well, something of a frenetic climax. A story within a story, the tale is told to us by a “spinster schoolteacher” (the book was published in 1977), Miss Ethel, who channels her sexual repression into this story of the farmer.

Neither Miss Ethel nor Jim’s wife, Effie, come across as one-dimensional—they feel and act like real people on the page. Dowell himself was gay and deftly handles this queer narrative in a way that is somehow both quiet and stunning, and makes an interesting case study for the time period and genre. And… show more.